


Forget Me Not

by admiralandrea



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Amnesia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 03:43:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20108608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admiralandrea/pseuds/admiralandrea
Summary: Callen gets into trouble undercover, the team rescues him but his recovery takes a while.





	Forget Me Not

**Author's Note:**

> I've erred on the side of caution with the warning for violence - it is the whipping referenced in the tags (in a non-sexual context). Dr Confalone appears in a few episodes of NCIS. Written for the "amnesia" square of my trope bingo card.

The man woke slowly, groaning at the ache in his head and the soreness of his body. He shivered, feeling a hard, damp surface beneath him. When he tried to move, clanking metal stopped him and he realized his limbs were all restrained. He also realized that he was only wearing a short-sleeved garment on his upper body and briefs on his lower half. 

His surroundings were dark and his lack of mobility meant he had no idea what sort of room he was in or how big it might be. He frowned, wondering why he was here and as he pondered that thought, he realized he didn’t know anything. His mind was blank, no memories of his name or history or anything else.

That was enough to panic him and his stomach rolled, nausea threatening. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to breathe slow and deep, not liking the idea of vomiting when he couldn’t move. He would be forced to lie there, unable to move away from the smell, which was sure to make things worse. Better to try and keep himself under control.

Before he could contemplate things further, he heard a sound behind him and then light flooded the room, blinding him and making him groan once more. Several sets of footsteps came closer and he realized his chains were being released. Another man took his arm and dragged him upright, making the nausea return.

This time he didn’t hold back, slumping forward and throwing up all over the shoes of the figure closest to him.

“Shit!” An angry voice exclaimed loudly and he was dragged backwards and smacked across the face.

That just made him groan and throw up again, prompting further exclamations of disgust. Both arms were gripped tightly and he was dragged along, barely able to keep his bare feet beneath him, stumbling as he went.

*

He was dragged into another, larger room, but this was also damp and cold. Looking around the man could just about make out it was some sort of industrial space. There were more men in here as well.

“Bring him over here,” a loud voice commanded. “String him up.”

The men holding him complied, dragging him across the room and then more chains were fastened to him again. His arms were pulled above his head and secured somewhere out of sight. His ankles were chained to the floor as well. Done, the men stepped away from him and a moment later, a big man stood in front of him.

“He give you any trouble?” this man asked, without turning away from him.

“Threw up on Jago a couple of times,” another man answered with a laugh.

The man in front of him turned and pulled a gun as he did so. “Idiot,” he snarled and raised the gun and fired. 

The captive flinched at the noise and the sound of a body hitting the ground. “No names!” The guy who was clearly the leader admonished, looking around. “Get rid of that mess.”

“Yes Boss,” several men agreed, moving forward and grabbing the body, dragging it away.

The leader turned back to the captive. “Now then,” he said. “Where were we?”

The captive drew back as much as his bonds would let him, shivering as he took in the menacing expression. He waited nervously for what was going to happen, not knowing who these people were or what they wanted from him. 

The leader reached out and grasped the captive’s T-shirt. With one strong move, he jerked on it and ripped it open, leaving it hanging. The captive drew in a breath, shivering again as he was further exposed to the cold air of the room.

The leader ran the barrel of his gun down the middle of the captive’s chest, leaving a burning trail behind, making him flinch back. He didn’t have much room to move though and the leader laughed at his reaction.

“Not the big strong Federal Agent now are you?” he mocked.

The captive gave him a wide-eyed look. His memory was still blank and he had no idea what the leader was talking about. The leader studied his expression, looking curious. He turned away to one of the other men who still stood around the room.

“Are we set up?” he asked.

“Yes Boss,” the man said immediately, gesturing off to one side. 

The captive looked in the direction he’d pointed and saw a video camera set up on a tripod, with a laptop open on a table next to it. That couldn’t be good and he trembled as he wondered what was going to happen.

The leader snapped his fingers at the man. “Bring me the whip,” he said.

The man hurried over to the table, coming back with the requested item. The captive fought back a whimper at the sight. The leader came over to him and casually ripped the T-shirt again, so that his back was now exposed as well.

The leader circled around in front of him once more. “Let’s see what you’re made of,” he said casually, flicking out the length of the whip.

With no more warning than that, he flicked it again, but this time, he struck the captive hard across his chest. It immediately stung and the captive yelled in pain. The leader smirked and struck again. He didn’t stop, lashing down over and over again, striking the captive over the chest. He was careless in his moves, seemingly not to care when the whip hit other parts of the captive’s body, or even his face a couple of times.

The captive yelled, moaned and whimpered, tears and snot running down his face as he felt fiery pain everywhere, bloody welts covering his body. The leader ignored him, barely pausing as he walked around behind the captive and immediately started again, on his back this time.

*

Sam paced back and forth in the roach coach behind where Eric and Nell worked on their computers, continuing their efforts to narrow down the location where Callen was being held. They knew they were in the right general area, from the hacking of the live stream Eric was doing. 

The people who held him were live streaming the torture of their Lead Agent, for anyone to see, bouncing the signal around the world. But fortunately, Eric was equal to tracking it – it was just taking a while.

“Come on Eric,” Sam demanded, as he paused to take in the view on the spare monitor, where he could see his partner hanging from chains, clothing hanging in tatters. 

The video was full color, so it was clear to see the bloodied welts that covered Callen’s front already, as well as each new one that arose as the man with the whip struck at his back now. Sam had marked his face and knew he wouldn’t emerge from that place alive. It might not be legal, but Sam really didn’t care about that right now.

“Almost there,” Eric promised him again.

Sam growled. “You’ve been saying that for the last ten minutes,” he snarled.

Eric didn’t pause in his typing or look up from his screen. “We could always swap places,” he suggested.

Sam just snarled wordlessly and went back to his pacing. “We are getting closer,” Nell interjected calmly. “We’re down to a few blocks radius but it’s still too big for a building to building search.”

“Got it!” Eric exclaimed loudly. Sam’s phone beeped a moment later and he pulled it out to see the address Eric had just sent.

“Two klicks away,” Nell announced. “By the time we’re there, you’ll have the layout of the building and drone footage showing where any hostiles are.”

She turned to Eric. “I’ll be fine with the drone,” he said immediately. “No crashing I promise.”

Nell smiled back at her. “I know Eric,” she agreed.

“Let’s go,” Sam said impatiently, already waiting at the door to the food truck. “We’ll go in on foot.”

Nell followed him out the door, accepting the gun that Kensi handed her outside. Deeks was waiting beside her, anxious look in his eyes. “We good to go?” he asked.

Sam nodded curtly, gesturing towards the waiting React team, who all indicated their readiness.

“Go get our boy,” Hetty said from where she stood by the driver’s cab of the food truck. She looked like she wanted to be coming with them. “I will join Mr Beale to monitor your progress.”

Sam just nodded again, then turned to lead the way to the warehouse Eric had found, setting into an easy jog that would cover the distance quickly but not tire any of them out before they got there. 

*

Once at their destination, they quickly determined the best approach was to use smoke grenades and flash bangs to disorientate the hostiles. There were no guards on perimeter watch and there was only one entrance to the room where Callen was being held, but there were several high windows, which they would use to throw in the grenades as distraction.

Sam led the breach into the room, saw the man who had been whipping his partner raise his gun and fired even as he charged forward, not even drawing breath as he watched the man fall to the ground dead.

“G!” he called as he reached his partner. Behind him, the rest of the team and the React agents were yelling at the other hostiles to get down and surrender. 

Callen swung slightly in his chains, head down on his chest. Sam couldn’t tell if he was conscious or not. A voice in his ear informed him the medics were on their way in.

“Find the keys,” Sam ordered, going to roughly pat down the guy he’d shot, without success.

A moment later Kensi called out in triumph. Sam looked up as she threw them towards him with a metallic jangle. He quickly sorted through to find the right one, starting with the ankles. As he freed the second one, the medics arrived, pushing a gurney in front of them.

“Over here guys,” Sam beckoned and they quickly joined him at his partner’s side. 

Sam waited while they did a few quick checks, confirming that Callen was out cold for the moment, which Sam thought was probably for the best.

“Alright, I’ll help you hold him up while we get him free,” one of the medics said. “We’ll cover the worst of these cuts once you get him down.”

Sam nodded agreement. “Front or back?” he asked, indicating the gurney.

The medics exchanged glances. “His back is slightly better,” the same one who had spoken before. “So on his back.”

Sam grunted. “They’d only just got started on that side,” he observed. 

He went to work on the chain on his side, then passed the keys to the medic to unlock the other side. It meant they each supported the side they’d unchained, ensuring that Callen stayed upright in their grip. Once he was free, Sam lifted his partner onto the gurney, lowering him gently. Callen remained unconscious, blood on his chin and one cheek, as well as his chest and legs. Sam deliberately avoided looking at his groin, which was barely covered by the remains of his underwear, not wanting to know if it too had been marked by the bastard with the whip. 

While the medics quickly cleaned and dressed a handful of welts, Sam looked around the room. The React team had already gone, taking the hostiles with them. Nell was examining the laptop while Kensi and Deeks covered the door. He nodded approvingly, knowing his partner would be proud of how the team had worked without needing anyone to direct them.

Kensi chose that moment to look round at him. “Crime scene and coroners office are on their way, we’ll stay here while they process the scene,” she told him.

“I’ll take this back with me to Ops,” Nell added, indicating the laptop and video camera set up. “Eric and I can work on it there, see what we can find out.”

“Thanks guys,” Sam said. “You all did a great job today.”

They all smiled back at him. “Just make sure Callen’s okay,” Deeks said. “We’ll deal with everything else.”

Sam nodded and at that moment, the medics indicated they were ready to go. “You’re coming with us I take it?” one of them added.

“Yeah, you don’t want to deal with him when he wakes up if I’m not around,” Sam said wryly. “He’ll be trying to convince you he’s fine and ready to leave AMA in a heartbeat otherwise.”

*

En route to the hospital, the medic asked Sam questions as he gave Callen a more thorough check. 

“We don’t know what happened before the torture started,” Sam told him. “He was involved in a deep cover op and we hadn’t heard anything to suggest there was a problem. Then we get an email from our HQ with a link to a video feed and it was that room, the whipping already in progress.”

The medic frowned. “It looks like there was some sort of assault before that happened,” he said. “There’s a nasty bump to the back of his head which suggests he hit it on something and the bruises are consistent with a beating, rather than the whipping.”

“Is that why he’s still unconscious?” Sam asked.

“Likely,” the medic agreed. “You’ll find out more once we get to the hospital.” He picked up his radio and started a conversation with the staff at the other end, using words like TBI and head trauma.

Sam winced, tuning it out in favor of picking up his partner’s hand and rubbing it lightly. Callen was cold, even though he was now wrapped in blankets and Sam frowned, knowing it was probably shock due to his injuries. He cradled the hand in both of his, so that he could try and warm it up, even though it was a pretty useless gesture.

*

Once at the hospital, Callen was wheeled straight through to a room for treatment, a nurse putting out a hand to block Sam. 

“I need to be with him,” Sam protested.

The nurse was implacable. “Sorry sir, medical staff only,” she said with an insincere smile. “If you come with me, you can fill out his paperwork.”

Sam glared but the nurse was oblivious, so Sam gave a resigned sigh and gestured for her to lead the way. At least the smile this time wasn’t triumphant or Sam might have hit something.

When they reached the front desk, Sam wasn’t surprised to see Hetty already there waiting. He acknowledged her with a nod as he took the clipboard of paperwork from the nurse.

“Mr Hanna, what can you tell me?” she asked as Sam took his place next to her in an uncomfortable plastic chair.

Sam sighed. “Not a lot,” he admitted. “The paramedic said there was some sort of head injury as well as bruises that suggested a beating. He was still unconscious when we got here.”

Hetty nodded but didn’t say anything, leaving Sam to finish the forms and return them to the front desk. Then they settled down to wait together, with Kensi and Deeks joining them after a couple of hours.

At the three hour mark, a doctor finally came out to see them. “Family of Greg Allison?” he asked.

Sam stood up. “That’s us,” he said. He’d kept the alias Callen had been using for the undercover op.

“What can you tell us Doctor?” Hetty asked.

The doctor frowned for a moment. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private,” he said and turned to lead them to a side room. 

Hetty took a seat at Sam’s gesture, while Kensi and Deeks took up positions just inside the door. Sam also sat down, knowing his size could be intimidating and that wasn’t what they needed at the moment.

“Very well, first of all my name is Dr Harris,” the Doctor said, taking the remaining chair in the room. “I understand you are aware of the majority of Mr Allison’s injuries.” At their nods he continued. “Fortunately despite how they may have appeared, the welts from the whip are mostly superficial. Those that were deeper are going to heal with the minimum of scarring, thanks to the speed with which he received treatment.”

Hetty gave a smile of relief at that. “Good, thank you,” she said.

“However,” Dr Harris held up a hand. “There is also the matter of the head injury. We’ve sent Mr Allison for a CAT scan to rule out any serious injury such as hematoma and hemorrhage. There was some edema, but nothing major. He does remain unconscious at this time and we will monitor him closely for complications. To that end, he will be transferred to ICU for observation. He will be allowed visitors but only one for a few minutes every hour.”

They thanked the doctor and headed up to the ICU waiting room.

*

Sam was alone in the waiting room several hours later. The rest of the team, including Hetty, had all gone home a while ago. But Sam had been allowed to stay, once the doctor in charge of Callen’s care had seen his notes from the previous occasions when Callen had reacted badly to being stuck in hospital.

For the moment, a Dr Linton, was in Callen’s room, checking him over, so Sam had been relegated to the waiting room. He leaned his back on the wall, eyes closed as he waited. A loud yell in a familiar voice and crashing noises had him wide awake and hurrying down the corridor in seconds.

“Get off me!” Callen’s voice was strident as Sam got to the entrance to his room.

He was waving his arms around, even there was no-one close to his bed, the medical personnel standing back from him and the disarray of equipment on the floor.

“G!” Sam called to him loudly, striding forward to his partner.

“No, no, leave me alone,” his partner yelled, even though Sam wasn’t touching him yet.

Sam reached out to him. “Calm down partner,” he said.

Callen drew back and made a wordless sound of fear, making Sam jolt back in surprise. His partner had never reacted to him that way before. He reached out again slowly.

“G, relax, it’s me,” he tried again.

Callen pulled back even further, pressed against the wall behind his bed, clearly shaking. His arm was bleeding where he’d had an IV for fluids.

Sam drew back, not understanding what was going on and turned to the doctor he’d met earlier. She was watching Callen with a frown on her face, but looked across at Sam as he carefully moved around the mess on the floor to stand beside her.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I’m not sure at the moment,” she told him. “I wasn’t able to complete my examination before he woke up and went crazy.”

“Went crazy?” Sam raised an eyebrow at that.

She gave him a small smile. “It fits,” she said, looking back over at Callen, who was still cowering back and darting glances around the room, flinching at every little noise. 

“So what do we do?” Sam asked. 

The doctor looked thoughtful. “If he doesn’t calm down by himself or in response to you, then I think a mild sedative is the best option. But it won’t be easy to administer it and using force to restrain him isn’t likely to improve matters.”

Sam nodded agreement. “We should talk either way,” he said. Hetty had agreed that if necessary, Sam would brief her on Callen’s status as a federal agent, but not reveal his true identity for his partner’s safety.

“I had a feeling there was a lot you weren’t telling me,” Dr Linton said with a small frown.

“For his protection,” Sam assured her.

“I understand,” she agreed.

As they talked, Callen had settled down behind them, so with a nod of encouragement from Dr Linton, Sam went back over to the bed.

“Hey G,” he said quietly. All he got was a blank stare in return, which worried him. “Do you know who I am?” Sam asked.

Callen frowned, looking agitated again. “Where am I?” he asked hesitantly, voice still raw from the screaming he’d done during the whipping.

Sam’s own frown was deep as he stared at Callen, whose gaze darted from him to Dr Linton and back again.

Dr Linton stepped closer to the bed. “You’re in hospital,” she explained, carefully not using the alias Sam had given her. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

Callen got more agitated at that, shaking his head, but looking fearful all the same. “Please, I don’t know anything,” he said in a pleading tone.

“Sh, it’s alright,” Dr Linton said. “How about I give you a little something for the pain, to help you relax?”

“Please don’t hurt me!” Callen begged, flinching back from their continued presence.

Sam backed across the room, his partner’s gaze fixed on him the whole time. “I promise you’re safe,” Dr Linton said soothingly, trying to get Callen’s attention once more.

His gaze darted between them again. “You can help with my head?” he finally asked, focusing on the doctor.

She nodded and smiled encouragingly, withdrawing a syringe from the pocket of her white coat. “Something that will help you relax and maybe sleep a little,” she agreed.

Callen looked at the syringe. “I don’t like needles,” he said in a small voice.

“Don’t worry, this is going into the IV, not your hand,” Dr Linton soothed him, reaching for the tubing as she said it.

Callen looked down at the back of his hand. “I already have a needle in me,” he complained.

“We put that one in while you were asleep,” Dr Linton told him. “It means we can give you medicine to make you better.”

Sam frowned at the way she spoke, sounding like Callen was a child who had trouble understanding her. It seemed to work though, because Callen gave a nod of assent, although he still watched closely as Dr Linton injected the contents of the syringe into the IV. Within a few minutes, Callen’s face relaxed and he settled down into the bed, eyes closing. Dr Linton carefully drew the bedding over him, just watching for a moment, before finally disposing of the syringe.

“We can talk in my office,” she suggested to Sam.

Sam shook his head. “I’d rather stay here,” he said.

She studied him as closely as she’d studied his partner before. “Alright,” she finally agreed and they settled into the easy chairs on the far side of the room, Sam making sure to angle himself so that he could still see his partner. 

“We’re Federal Agents,” Sam told her without preamble. “The actual agency doesn’t matter, we work a lot of undercover cases. That’s what G was doing when this happened.”

Dr Linton was watching him closely. “So how does that relate to what happened to him?”

Sam looked back at her. “The case that we were working meant G was undercover without any back up. He had ways to check in and pass information but there was nobody monitoring him day to day. He made his check in as usual five days ago, no red flags. Then this morning, the office was sent a link to a live stream. It showed him chained up and being whipped.”

Sam looked back to Callen again, but his partner was still sleeping peacefully. “What’s wrong with him?” he asked.

“He’s exhibiting signs of memory loss,” Dr Linton answered.

“Amnesia?” Sam glanced at her briefly, catching her nod of agreement.

“That’s what it seems like. The head injury isn’t serious, as you were told in the ER, but the area involved means his memory is affected.”

Sam sighed. “So what now?”

Dr Linton’s pause was long enough that Sam turned back to her again. Once she had his attention, she spoke. “As I’m sure you’re aware, there’s a lot we don’t know about the brain and how it works. That is particularly true of amnesia or memory loss. Traumatic events are often lost, even without any type of head injury.”

Sam nodded at that. He knew that Callen didn’t remember the day he got shot five times in Venice. Sam only wished he could be that lucky, he still had the occasional nightmare about it, even though it had happened years ago.

“A complete loss of identity as well as loss of memory is quite rare, but the type of experience that you’ve described, coupled with the earlier head injury explains that. We take a conservative approach to treatment, mainly managing the physical symptoms and wait for the psychological aspect to resolve itself.”

“And if that doesn’t happen?” Sam had to ask.

“I recommend psychotherapy,” Dr Linton told him.

Sam immediately shook his head. “I can’t see that working, G’s not the type to talk about himself.”

“In this instance, though, he could well be,” she pointed out to him. “With his identity essentially lost, your partner doesn’t know what sort of person he is and if he wants to recover his memory, then he may not have a choice.”

Sam thought about it, knowing that Hetty would have to bring in a new therapist, because Callen no longer trusted Nate and it would need to be someone with the clearance to know about his partner’s past and his job.

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that,” he finally said.

Dr Linton smiled at him. “There are things you can do to help as well,” she told him. “But we’ll save that for another time. You need to rest too, or you won’t be any good for your partner.”

“Still not leaving,” Sam pointed out.

“Actually,” a voice from the door got their attention. “It is time you did just that Mr Hanna.”

Hetty stood at the entrance to the room, eyes fixed on Callen, rather than looking at Sam or Dr Linton.

“Hetty,” Sam stood up. “This is Dr Linton.”

She did glance over to them this time. “Yes, I’m aware,” she agreed. “I will be staying here for the rest of the night, keeping an eye on our wayward agent here.”

Dr Linton opened her mouth, possibly to object, then subsided with a nod. “Of course,” she agreed.

Hetty smiled at her. “I will see you at 8am Mr Hanna and not a moment before,” she told Sam.

“0800,” Sam agreed and headed for the door with a sigh. He didn’t want to leave, but knew his partner was in safe hands with Hetty here, and he did need to be well-rested so that he was ready to deal with his partner the next day.

*

When he woke with a groan, he heard beeping noises and smelt something he instinctively knew meant hospital. Although he still didn’t know his own name or history, he quickly realized. His head ached and his body felt sore, he was hot and pushed at the bedding covering him.

A startled movement caught his eye and he turned with another groan to see a small bespectacled woman sat at his bedside.

“Wha?” he managed to croak.

Her face relaxed, though she wasn’t quite smiling. “Mr Callen it is good to see you awake once more.”

He tried to speak but his mouth was dry so all that came out was another half-word and then he felt nausea sweep over him and leaned forward with another pained noise. A basin was shoved under his nose just as he started to throw up, tears leaking involuntarily from his eyes.

He was barely aware of his surroundings, as he continued to vomit, other people coming into the room and crowding around his bed. Arms supported him, while a damp cloth wiped at his face and neck, giving slight relief.

As soon as he was done, the basin disappeared and he was handed a small cup of water to rinse his mouth out. He then felt the rush of medication hitting him again and before he could process it, he was falling asleep again.

*

“That was less than pleasant,” Hetty said drily as Sam settled his partner back into bed properly.

Sam just snorted, fussing over the covers and untangling the IV line.

“I need to check him over again,” Dr Linton said. “I’m concerned about infection, his fever is high and the sickness just adds to my concern.”

Sam straightened slowly, one last touch to his partner’s hand before he turned back to the doctor. She gave him a sympathetic look and he nodded agreement and understanding, following Hetty out of the door and back to the waiting area. As they sat down, she put one hand on his wrist.

“I’m sure Mr Callen will be fine, Mr Hanna,” she told him.

He turned to her. “How can you be sure?”

“Because we will accept no less,” she said firmly.

Sam sighed, but didn’t argue. He was happy to accept Hetty’s faith and belief in this, while his own wavered. 

*

Things remained ‘less than pleasant’ for Callen for the next couple of days, as a couple of the particularly deep whip marks were infected. He was also dealing with the effects of the head injury and concussion as well. The doctor kept him sedated for most of it, which was a relief for all of them, as he also remained ignorant of who he was, showing no signs of recognition the few times he was awake for brief periods.

Then, on the fourth morning, he woke up and Dr Linton said the worst of the concussion was over, and the infection had responded well to antibiotics, so he was allowed ice chips at first and then clear liquids later in the day. Sam just wished the memory loss could be dealt with that easily.

*

As Callen continued to get better, he was moved from ICU to a regular room in the hospital. Although Hetty had worked her magic to get him a VIP private room, behind security doors, which pleased Sam. 

The interrogations of the rest of the men they’d arrested at the warehouse had proven enlightening. The leader, one Ramon Santiago, had been a drugs dealer, looking to move into arms dealing as well. That was where Callen had come into it, as a middle man. None of the gang knew who had made Callen, as Santiago had kept that information to himself.

They did find out that Santiago was involved with elements of the Armenian mob and that might be a part of it. It also meant that the threat to Callen was ongoing, hence Sam’s relief at the heightened security in the part of the hospital where Callen was continuing his recovery.

Callen was chafing at the restrictions, though, which was such a typical thing for him to do, Sam wasn’t quite sure how to react. There was still no sign that Callen knew who he was or what he did. The doctors had said they could talk to Callen about who he was and his past, as well as answer any questions, but so far there hadn’t been any. 

That passivity was unusual for his partner, so Sam was relieved when Hetty announced she’d found a psychotherapist with Vance’s help and she would be arriving soon.

“A psychotherapist?” Callen asked hesitantly.

“Someone with whom you can talk, to help recover your memories, Mr Callen,” Hetty explained.

As always, Callen frowned at the use of his name. “Is that necessary?” he asked.

“Do you not wish to remember who you are and your life?” Hetty asked in return.

Sam watched the conversation, seeing a slight wince on his partner’s face at Hetty’s question.

There was a slight shrug, then a mumbled, “I guess,” in a half-hearted tone of agreement.

“Then the psychotherapist is necessary,” Hetty said briskly. “She suggests we all attend sessions with you, both as a group and individually.”

Callen looked up quickly at that, then darted a glance to Sam. “Why?”

“So that we can talk about our relationships,” Sam suggested.

Hetty nodded agreement. “You need to learn who we are to you and how we all work together. We are also your family, so this will help all of us.”

“My family?” Callen seized onto that comment with a spark of surprise.

“Yes,” Sam said firmly. “Family,” he nodded for emphasis. “I know you don’t know this G, but we’ve been a team for a long time and we’ve been through a lot together. We’ve gotten close, had each other’s backs and that creates special bonds.”

“A relationship forged in fire,” Callen murmured.

Sam stared at him when he heard that, remembering how he’d used that expression years ago, when talking about his SEAL brethren. He wondered why his partner had come out with it now, whether it was a sign of some sort of memory returning.

Callen looked at Hetty. “I guess I’ll have to put up with it,” he said with a shrug of acquiescence.

Hetty smiled at him. “Thank you Mr Callen. Now, Dr Confalone will be here tomorrow afternoon for your first session, which will be just the two of you, she will come up with a schedule for the rest of the sessions with the team as a whole, as well as the joint sessions with you and one other member of the team. There will also be appointments for you alone.”

“And do I still have to stay here?” Callen gestured to the hospital room.

“That is for your doctors to decide,” Hetty told him. “I believe they will consult with Dr Confalone on that subject and we will have to come up with somewhere safe for you to go, once you are released.”

Callen frowned. They had told him the basics of what he did and that he was still at risk from the associates of the man who’d hurt him, but he’d been disinterested during the conversation.

“You still think I’m in danger from these Armenians?” he asked.

Hetty nodded. “Indeed Mr Callen, all our intel suggests that they are still actively seeking to find you, even though they know that you were rescued by NCIS and they must realize we now have you under protection.”

“Sounds pretty dumb on their part,” he observed.

Sam couldn’t stop his snort of laughter at that. “What? He’s right,” he pointed out when Hetty glared at him.

“Be that as it may, Mr Hanna, we will have to work on securing a suitable location as a safe house for Mr Callen once he is released. Ms Blye and Mr Deeks are working on that with Ms Jones and Mr Beale, as well as trying to find our mobsters so that we might apprehend them.” 

Callen sighed. “And in the meantime, I’m stuck here right?”

“I’m afraid so Mr Callen,” Hetty agreed with a brief pat of his hand.

“Look at it this way G, you’re getting waited on while you lounge around in bed, it’s not exactly hard work is it?”

“You seem to be doing the same,” Callen shot back, in a way that was exactly how he would have responded in normal circumstances and Sam felt a pang of emotion at that again.

“Gentlemen,” Hetty admonished as she got to her feet. 

Sam apologized and a moment later, Callen did the same. “Very well, I must get back to Ops for now. I will see you both again tomorrow.”

They said goodbye and Sam watched her out the door and down the corridor to the exit. Hetty was completely capable of taking care of herself, but Sam couldn’t help his cautious nature anyway. When he turned back, his partner was staring at him, but catching Sam’s look, he blushed and ducked his head. Sam frowned, wondering what that was about, but carefully didn’t ask, instead just moving back to his seat next to the couch that Callen had graduated to, now the doctors had agreed he no longer needed to be in bed all the time.

“What now?” Callen asked as Sam got settled again.

“How about we find a movie to watch?” Sam suggested, picking up the remote as he did so.

Callen shrugged. “I guess,” he agreed, back to that listless tone again.

Sam couldn’t help his frown, but concentrated on flicking through TV channels and tried not to worry too much about his partner’s mental state, even though it was far from easy to switch off. He just hoped that this Dr Confalone that Hetty was bringing in was able to help. He wanted his partner back and not just for work either. He missed Callen outside of work as well, the way they hung out together, needled each other, but still had fun. That was without the addition of the more personal side of things, which he had very carefully not even hinted at to his partner so far, having no idea how he would react to that news. He’d have to wait until he could bring that up with Dr Confalone privately at some point.

*

Sam got his chance to speak to Dr Confalone sooner than expected, because when she arrived, Callen was off having a scan. The doctor was concerned about some of the whip marks still not healing properly and possible underlying scar tissue. Callen had pulled faces, but not argued.

Hetty brought the therapist into Callen’s room, where Sam waited on the couch. He immediately got to his feet and stepped forward to shake hands while Hetty performed the introductions. Sam sized her up while they went through the formalities. Dr Confalone was about 5’ 6” Sam guessed, with shoulder length blonde hair. She had a firm grip and a warm smile, but Sam guessed she was no pushover, especially as Hetty told him off the record that she worked with Gibbs.

“So tell me a little bit about your relationship to my patient,” was the first thing she asked, when Hetty had left and Sam was back on the couch, while Dr Confalone was in an armchair.

“We’re partners,” Sam said immediately. It was his standard reply, because it covered a multitude of eventualities and how people responded told him a lot about them.

Dr Confalone smiled. “Work, personal or both?”

Sam was impressed that she was willing to go there straight away. “Both.”

“And how does your personal relationship affect your work relationship?”

Sam didn’t even hesitate. “It makes it better. All our team are close, like family, we work well together because we understand and anticipate each other. People who are this familiar have a rhythm, a shorthand, we don’t need language to flow.”

Dr Confalone nodded. “I can see you’ve thought about this a lot.”

“That’s what I do,” Sam told her.

They continued to chat for a few more minutes, until Callen was wheeled back into the room by an orderly. He had an unhappy scowl on his face that Sam was quite familiar with, from previous hospital stays.

“Everything okay G?” he asked lightly.

Callen didn’t say anything, just nodded briefly. He walked over to join them in the seating area.

“This is Dr Confalone,” Sam introduced them.

Callen shook hands briefly. “Callen,” he said, taking the empty armchair.

“I’ll just go get coffee then,” Sam told them. “Back in an hour.”

Dr Confalone smiled at him. “It was good to meet you Sam, I look forward to talking to you again.”

Callen looked up at him. “Will you bring me back something please?” he asked. “I’m sick of the food in this place.”

Sam couldn’t help the big smile at that request. “Of course,” he agreed. “I know just the thing.”

“I’m sure you know my favorites better than me right now,” Callen told him.

Sam nodded and sketched a wave as he headed out the door. There was a coffee place down the road that they frequently visited and there was usually a good choice of pastries that his partner would enjoy.

*

Once the door had closed behind Sam, Callen turned to Dr Confalone. “So you’re the one sent to make sure I’m not faking it?” he asked, not caring how snide he sounded.

The doctor didn’t rise to the bait. “I’m here to help you however you need Agent Callen,” she said calmly.

Callen slumped into the chair with a sigh. He was tired of the whole situation, as well as being fed up of the hospital. The scan had at least confirmed there were no underlying issues, it was just a case that some of the deeper marks were slower to heal than the rest.

“So what do you want to talk about?” he asked.

“That should be my line,” Dr Confalone said.

He shrugged. “I just want out of this hospital,” he said. “How do I get my memories back?”

“If I knew the answer to that, I’d be a rich woman,” Dr Confalone said wryly. “I’m sure you’ve heard all about how hard it is for us to understand the brain’s workings and how memory is a malleable thing.”

Callen nodded, having had that lecture from one of the doctors overseeing his care. “So I just have to wait?”

“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but that’s the crux of it,” Dr Confalone told him. “However talking to your friends and loved ones, as well as working with me on any possible issues that come up, will help.”

“So where do we start?” Callen asked.

“Have you remembered anything at all yet?”

Callen squirmed in his seat. “Maybe?” he said, making more of a question than a direct statement.

Dr Confalone looked steadily back at him, just waiting, so Callen gave a loud sigh before continuing. “I’ve had a few dreams, quite vivid ones, that might be memories.”

“Why do you think that?” she asked.

Callen sighed, he already wasn’t enjoying this process at all and he felt like that was probably typical of him. He struggled to put into words what he was thinking. Dr Confalone waited patiently for him to speak and he had a feeling that she would continue to do so as long as necessary.

“It just seems like they were very realistic situations,” he finally explained. “I discussed them with Sam and he said they sounded like things he remembered from ops, but nothing recent. And nothing about my childhood either.”

For the rest of the session, Dr Confalone had him describe one of the dreams/memories and they then discussed what Callen thought it told him about himself and who he was as a person. He didn’t really enjoy it, but could admit it was helpful.

*

The next few days, he had sessions both by himself and with one or more of the rest of the team every day. It was hard work; Callen quickly realized that he didn’t like talking about himself, but he was gradually getting his memories back.

One day, he came back into the hospital suite he was still stuck in, having persuaded Dr Confalone – Grace as he was now calling her – to let him have a session outside in the garden.

Sam had been reluctant to let him go by himself but had to agree that there had been no evidence that there was an ongoing threat to him. Even Hetty had conceded that there was no reason for him to be in the hospital any more and was arranging for his release home.

Callen had recovered a lot more of his memories of the last few years, but his childhood was still mostly fuzzy. One thing he had recently remembered was his personal relationship with Sam. 

Sam looked up as he came in. “Hey,” he said with a smile.

“Hey,” Callen bit his lip as he walked towards his partner. He had discussed his next move with Grace, but was still nervous about it.

“What’s up G?” Sam’s brown eyes were warm and he looked concerned.

Callen knew that his partner could read him better than anyone and would have easily picked up on the fact that he was bothered about something.

“I want to kiss you,” he said in a rush.

Sam just raised his eyebrows. Callen crossed the remaining distance to where Sam still sat on the couch. He stood in front of Sam, looking down with a frown. Sam just waited patiently for him so with a sigh, Callen lowered himself to sit astride his partner’s legs, feeling slightly foolish.

Sam’s arms came up to hold him in place and after a moment, Callen moved the last few inches necessary for him to press his lips to Sam’s. Sam let him take the lead and their mouths moved together gently, until Callen pulled back again with a sigh.

“Thank you,” Callen whispered.

Sam gave him a look that he could only describe as fond. “I love you G,” he said equally quietly, tone gentle.

Callen felt his eyes fill at that and ducked his head. Sam tilted his chin back up. “No need to hide G,” he said, still just as gentle.

Callen shook his head, clenching his jaw and leaned forward, tucking his face into Sam’s neck. Sam held on and let him cry, not saying anything, just rubbing his back gently until he was done.

When Callen eventually leaned back again, Sam just kissed him briefly, before encouraging him to stand up and then guided them over to the bed, where they settled spooned together. Before long, Callen felt sleep claim him, feeling more relaxed than he had for a long time.

*

A couple of days later, Hetty arrived with Dr Confalone and Dr Rush, the doctor who had been overseeing his physical care. Callen was curled against Sam, the two of them watching a football game. 

Seeing the three of them walking in, Callen straightened up expectantly, while Sam flipped the TV off. “Good news?” Callen asked, unable to hide his eagerness.

Hetty gave him an indulgent smile. Their relationship had changed in the last couple of weeks, during the therapy sessions they’d shared.

“Indeed Mr Callen,” she confirmed. “Drs Rush and Confalone are in agreement that there is no longer a need for you to remain in the hospital and I am confident that the threat to you has reduced enough that it is safe for you to go home.”

Callen felt his smile grow bigger as relief settled through him. He still couldn’t remember a lot of his childhood, which wasn’t exactly a problem, as far as he was concerned. But he had regained all his memories from the time he’d gone to live with Hetty onwards.

“I do want to continue with your therapy sessions for a little longer,” Dr Confalone interjected. “But I’m happy for you to do so an outpatient.”

Callen nodded, he’d expected that and knew there were a few hoops he’d have to jump through before he could return to work. 

“I have the paperwork here for you to complete,” Dr Rush stepped forward with a clipboard. “I don’t anticipate you having any more problems, everything has healed up well.”

Callen accepted the clipboard from him and sat down to start reading and signing all the forms. Sam put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll pack up our stuff,” he said.

Callen gave a distracted nod, not looking up from his reading. He ignored the others while he worked his way through the stack, distantly aware of a conversation between Sam, Hetty and Grace, guessing they were discussing his appointment schedule.

When he was done, he looked up to find Dr Rush waiting alone. He raised an eyebrow and the doctor smiled at him. 

“Your partner went to bring his car round, the others left,” he told Callen.

Callen nodded, he’d vaguely heard Sam saying something before he left, but hadn’t paid proper attention. 

“I’m all done here,” he said, handing the clipboard over.

Dr Rush flipped through it quickly before looking back up. “This all looks fine,” he said. “You’re good to go. You know what to do if you have any problems.”

“I do,” Callen agreed.

Dr Rush reached out and shook his hand. “I hope to never see you again,” he said sincerely, but with a smirk.

“Ditto,” Callen agreed, smirking back.

Sam came back at that moment, looking between them. “What’s going on?” he asked.

Callen smirked at him. “Nothing,” he said. “We ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, still looking suspicious.

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand then,” Callen said breezily, heading for the door.

Sam just shook his head with a fond smile, raising a hand to Dr Rush as they left. It would be good to be back home at last.


End file.
